


If I Had My Way

by whatsinamasterball



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Alternate Universe - College/University, College Parties, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, Slow Build, coffee shop is home base, college shenanigans, even though he tries so hard to act all tough, jean is a cutie in real life, marco is a huge dork, probs some underage drinking, seriously though, tattoo jean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-06 20:06:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1870692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatsinamasterball/pseuds/whatsinamasterball
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another Shingeki no College AU.<br/>Marco Bodt and his friends on the second floor of his dorm building grow close and inevitably get into shenanigans.<br/>Marco is a dork.<br/>Jean has tattoos.<br/>Expect lots of fluff and lots of college pranks, parties, movie marathons, and the nerds being nerds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Who We Are

**Author's Note:**

> This took me a little too long to write, but I've finally got it up!  
> Also, I will be using and tracking the tag 'fic: if i had my way' on tumblr. If you want to post anything about it on tumblr use that tag!

Some people believe in coincidences. I sure as hell don’t. At one time in my life, maybe I would have thought differently. But in my life right now, and the way certain events transpired, there is no plausible explanation for meeting the most important people in my life in my very first year of college. And it becomes even more unlikely that we would all live on the same floor of our dorm. But here’s the kicker: I fell in head-over-heels, hopelessly and stupidly in love.

Okay, I’ll backtrack for sake of clarity. I, Marco Bodt, am incoming freshman at Trost State University. And it’s no exaggeration to say that my bloodstream is so full of adrenaline from anxiety I probably looked like I was going through withdrawal. Or, I don’t know, maybe something a little bit less dramatic.

Somehow, I convinced my parents to let me come up on my own. It sounded really great at the time; looking super independent and cool, not needing my parents’ help. It sounded so good because gaining independence is a touch on the hard side with my family. I’m the oldest of three, and therefore I’m the first bird leaving the nest. My mother was, of course, a blubbery mess of tears, and the ever-present confident grin on my father’s face was a tad bit forced when I finally had to leave early this morning.

As I began unloading my boxes from my old Ford Focus though, I really wished I had at least brought my father to help me with my things. _Oh well,_ I thought optimistically with my first box in tow, as I stood in front of my dorm building, Maria. It was the cheapest of the three on-campus dorms because it was co-ed. I guess with the increase in chance of pregnancy brought with it a lower price. The rooms however were strictly same-gendered (unless the occupants were siblings as I later found out). I had no idea who my roommate was, but I was sincerely hoping that we could get along.

My whole life I’ve gotten along very easily with people. Some people call me naïve, some people say I’m a pushover. I don’t think so at all. I’m just very tolerant of people’s quirks and habits that might put others out. It’s what makes everyone unique, and I find that beautiful. However, even though I get along with everybody, I haven’t found someone I could ever call my best friend. My whole life, I’ve seen people with their partners; people who just _got_ them. And I’ve made it my goal this year to find that person.

Okay, so maybe that shouldn’t be my top priority with my first year of college, but hey.

I realized that I’ve been standing there for a while, so I close the trunk of my car and with my box and my favorite bag slung over my shoulder, I make my way inside the building. My room number is 12B, so I begin the search. Luckily for me though, a girl with orangish hair was smiling pleasantly at me from behind a desk in the lobby, looking like she was prepared to help.

“Hi there!” She beamed at me, “My name is Petra. If you give me your name, I can point you in the right direction!”

I smile meekly at her and with as much confidence as I could muster I replied, “Marco Bodt.”

She started typing my name into her computer screen and I took a minute to glance at my surroundings. I could definitely tell that this was one of the older buildings. The brick walls were in definite need of repair, but I wasn’t worried about them collapsing. There were a few older looking couches pushed up against the walls, and a giant flat-screen TV that looked incredibly out of place.

“Ah! Your room is on the second floor, 12B. It’ll be all the way at the end and on the right,” She replied after a moment, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I thanked her politely, but inwardly groaned. I was really hoping for a room on the first floor. I took a deep breath and prepared myself for what was going to be quite a few trips upstairs, as I could already see that the elevator was out of order (Petra apologized profusely and told me that maintenance would fix it soon, to which I just smiled).

After about thirty minutes of walking up and down the stairs with boxes, awkwardly nodding to Petra each time (and weirdly running into no one else), I was finally sitting in my room, with everything there. I finally took a moment to look around at what would be my surroundings for the next year. It was plain, but nicer than I expected. There were two sides of one room, separated by a tiny common area that lead to the single bathroom. At least we didn’t have to deal with community bathrooms.

I decided to take the side of the room farthest away from the door, which had a single window looking out on the campus. The first thing I began doing was unpacking what I considered my home essentials. My corkboard with all my pictures from home, a few movie tickets, a few notes here and there was the first to go up. I have a thing about mementos. Things of little significance mean a lot to me. Next to it, I hung up another one, but this one is new and empty. I hope I can fill it up quickly. I smile a bit to myself and begin unpacking everything else in my room, including my clothes, my school supplies, and other room necessities.

It was when I start finally making up my bed when the door opens and someone comes bursting in. I nearly jump out of my skin when I see a short kid with a buzz cut fly in to my side of the room with a look of pure and utter determination, and then see if fall off of his face just as quickly.

“Aw, dude! I was going to take this side!” He pouted quite comically.

I couldn’t help but laugh as I straightened up and scratched the back of my neck and then walked up to him.

“Sorry man, I didn’t know. I could move things, if you want,” I told him, smiling (and seriously wanting to make a good impression, thus the offer).

“Nah, it’s cool. It’s my fault for being a good person. Or whatever that means,” He sighed dramatically and when I raised my eyebrows at him curiously, he barked out a laugh and shrugged, “I was just helping my friend unpack her shit first. But she became sidetracked when we started loading up her fridge.” He snickered again, and even though I was still pretty confused, he didn’t seem to mind.

“My name is Connie, man. Nice to meet you, erm…” He said, holding out his hand.

It took me a second to realize he was wanting me to give him my name, and I sputtered, “Oh! I’m Marco!” and shook his hand, hoping I didn’t look like a total dork.

“Sweet. Wanna help me unpack?”

And just like that, I think I made my first friend in college.

 

* * *

So as it turns out, Connie is really funny. He’s super into video games and wants to become a graphic designer.

“Yeah, I don’t know. I want to make my own worlds, know what I mean?” He explained around a mouthful of Doritos.

I also found out the girl he was helping unpack earlier, Sasha, would apparently be spending a lot of time in our room.

“We grew up as next door neighbors,” she enlightened me (she was currently eating a whole thing of cheesy rice that she made in our microwave), “and we’ve been best friends ever since.”

I liked them. A lot. They were both incredibly friendly and interesting to watch. It’s like they were on the same wavelength and could read each other’s minds. Connie was loud and said everything like he read the encyclopedia about it, even though most of the time, it made little to no sense. But that made him a bit more endearing.

Sasha was something else. She was… gorgeous. Absolutely beautiful. The kind of beautiful that you can just tell she doesn’t have to try for. Her auburn hair in a messy ponytail, sporting a tank top and sweats. She was barefoot and her toes were a bright green. Her personality was bright, unabashed and a little brash. But I realized a lost cause when I saw one. I wasn’t oblivious to the looks her and Connie were giving each other. Even if they were.

Seeing them so happy together in their friendship actually made me feel lonely again. They were keeping me included in the conversation, sure, but it just reminded me that I didn’t have someone like they did.

“You okay Marco?” Sasha asked, big amber eyes looking up at me. I realized that I had a frown adorning my features, and I shook it off, smiling.

“Yeah, sorry. Just thinking.”

I spent the rest of that evening with the dynamic duo, talking about upcoming plans for the semester. Sasha, not really to my surprise, wants to study culinary arts.

“I’m gonna open up my own restaurant one day, you just watch!” She yells, with her fist held high and Connie returns the enthusiasm, knocking his knuckles with hers.

After a while, I decide to turn in to my side of the room while they were in a heated argument about what to name her restaurant.

After flopping in my bed, I check my phone to see if anyone texted me.

**0 New Messages**

I sigh and plug the phone in and set it on my bedside table. I didn’t really expect anyone to call or text me so soon, but I couldn’t help the disappointment that clouded my mind.

_Stop it, Marco. You just made two new friends the first day. They’re super nice and you didn’t say anything too weird to scare them off._

_You’re right, self._

_I know I am._

I took a deep breath and smiled at my ceiling. I was about to get under the covers, when I realized that I was still in my day clothes. I went over to the dresser and pulled out my favorite sleeping shorts and went to the bathroom to change. I got undressed quickly and pulled on the shorts. I was about to walk out, when I realized that there was still a girl in my room. I begrudgingly pulled on my shirt and walked back out.

“Goodnight guys!” I chirped before I rounded the corner. A chorus of _goodnight’s_ followed me before they continued their conversation.

Once I was behind the safety of the wall, I threw off my shirt and crawled into my gray sheets, pulling my comforter up to my chin. Then I allowed the sounds of Sasha and Connie’s voices lull me into sleep.

* * *

 

I awoke the next morning to a heart attack.

Someone was pounding on the door so hard, I thought the hinges were going to pop out. I jump so high off of my bed I could have qualified for the Olympics. After successfully falling on my ass, I run to the door, seeing that Connie is in a similar state of shock. We exchange terrified, sleepy looks of _what the fuck_ before I finally open the door.

Standing in front of me is the widest human being I have laid my eyes on. Pure muscle. My eyes are popping out of my head because I just _know_ that I’m going to die right there.

A hearty laugh fills the hallway when the guy in front of me sees my expression. Now that I’m more confident in my life span, I take a look at a kind face with blonde hair. He crosses his beefy arms in front of his beefy chest and leans against the door frame.

“Hey there. Sorry to wake you. I’m Reiner. I live on this floor.”

I didn’t quite know how to respond to that, but thankfully, Connie decided to show up behind me and share his thoughts on the situation.

“Fucking hell! It’s like 8 in the morning! What are you _doing?_ ”

I gape at Connie, because apparently he isn’t seeing what I’m seeing (which is our possible deaths). But instead of pummeling us to the floor, the guy in front of us, Reiner, booms out another laugh. At this, the utter weirdness of the situation catches up to me and I begin laughing too. I hold out my hand for him, “Nice to meet you, Reiner. I’m Marco and this is Connie,” I inform him, introducing ourselves.

I look over my shoulder to see that there are quite a few people out in the hallway milling around. It occurs to me that Reiner must be gathering our whole floor.

“I just wanted to become acquainted with everyone on the floor. Get dressed and let’s all bond,” he says cheekily and turns on his heel to talk with a ridiculously tall guy. Then I realize I’m not wearing a shirt, so I shut the door and look at Connie who just shrugs and puts on some pants over his boxers and walks in the bathroom.

I quickly put on more acceptable attire and join Connie in the bathroom to brush my teeth. I have ridiculous bead head, but Reiner has started pounding on doors again, so I just run a hand through it and meet up with everyone outside.

Once I’m out of my door, following a very grumpy Connie, I see ten other people in the hallway, equally as grumpy. Most of them are in some sort pajamas, and I suddenly don’t feel so bad about my appearance.

“All right everyone!” roars Reiner, and we all groan at the loudness of his voice, as if it’s an offense to the very concept of morning, “I’m not going through my first year of college without getting to know everyone I’m going to be living next to, so I figured I might as well start now!” He finishes with a smile.

“Yeah, and what makes you think we want to know you?” Comes a retort from a guy who is leaning on the door right across from mine. His arms are crossed in front of his chest and his two-toned hair is messy and rebelling. Even though his comment was rude, he has a slight smirk on his face, and Reiner just claps him on the shoulder (Which I am grateful for, because I’m still not entirely convinced that Reiner isn’t capable of killing us).

I give the snarky guy a curious look before resuming the task of observing my surroundings. Next to Snarky is a short, blonde haired kid, who looks like he’s been awake for a while, with bright, intelligent eyes also surveying the floor. They must be roommates by the way they’re standing close to the door across mine.

To my left, is Sasha, and who I’m guessing is her roommate. A short blonde girl, who looks equally parts nervous and angelic in her white tank top and pink cotton sleep shorts. I had to force my eyes to keep moving past her so I didn’t look like a nerd staring at the girl who’s totally out of his league (even if that was technically the truth).

Across from them is a tall dark-skinned girl with freckles lining her face. They aren’t like mine though, they’re much more symmetrical. Her roommate, whoever she is, isn’t with her. Down the hall I spot a brunette boy with startling eyes with a pretty Asian girl, Reiner and the ridiculously tall guy with a short blonde who seems utterly disinterested in the gathering.

That seems to be everyone on our floor. I look to Connie again, and he still seems pouty that he was woken up. I’m not too upset though. I was initially worried about meeting people, and especially being awkward with the people on my floor, but Reiner has given me a golden opportunity to get to know these people.

“Uh, so what exactly do you plan us to do, hot shot? Play a get-to-know-you game like we’re in the third grade?” The tall freckled girl asked Reiner. She was in pale gray sweats and a big t-shirt and her hair was in a loose pony tail at the base of her neck. She was intimidating to say the least, but Reiner wasn’t swayed.

“If that’s what you want, then sure!” He replied giving her a shit-eating grin. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

 “What exactly do you have in mind?” The brunette boy asked him quizzically. He seemed pretty up for the idea, and I had to hold back a chuckle at his enthusiasm.

“Well I don’t know any get-to-know-you games off of the top of my head, but I do have some pretty good games we could play.” He shrugged to him, “But we really should get to know each other. We’ll go down the hall and introduce ourselves and say one cool fact about us. How’s that sound?” He regarded the freckled girl with the last question and she just snorted. No one seemed to want to refuse him because his sheer size was frightening despite his friendly demeanor.

“All right, I’ll start, then we’ll go down to the end of the hallway. I’m Reiner Braun. I’m a theatre major and no I’m _not_ here on a football scholarship,” Reiner stated, gesturing to himself. Huh. I would not have imagined that he’d be a theatre major. Although I guess that just goes to show you not to judge a book by its cover. Also, I really shouldn’t be surprised because Trost State is known for its artsy degree programs.

Everyone else in the hallway seemed to be slightly surprised at this information as well, but we quickly recovered as Reiner elbowed his taller, darker friend to go.

Immediately I realized that the poor guy did not like being put on the spot and I felt second-hand embarrassment and pity for him when he visibly began sweating.

“I’m Bertholdt Fubar, a-and I’m Reiner’s roommate.” He said, not making eye contact with anyone. We all sort of went quite after that, not realizing that his bit of information about himself was the fact that he was rooming with Reiner. He continued to pour sweat out of his pours when finally, the blonde girl with the gray hoodie spoke up.

“I’m Annie Leonhardt. If you hear animal noises, don’t tell any of the RA’s or I’ll kick your ass. I take in strays. If you have a problem, talk to me about it.”

The freckled girl pinched the bridge of her nose, and I figured that Annie was her roommate. I didn’t know if I felt bad for her because of the animals, or because Annie didn’t sound like she was joking about kicking any one of our asses. It sure surprised me though. The thought of the straight-faced blonde carrying in a stray cat was a weird mental picture.

“Oookay,” the brunette bravely cut the silence that followed Annie’s introduction and began, “I’m Eren Jaeger. I’m going to be a screen writer,” He smiled, the fire only heating up in his eyes. He then added as an afterthought, “And yes I’m rooming with a girl. She’s my sister. If any of you try to hit on her-“

“Eren,” the pretty black-haired girl interrupted him with what I can only describe as a ‘mom voice.’ He indignantly looked up and away, and we all sort of giggled, relieved that the tension from Bertholdt and Annie’s introductions was dissipating.

We turned our attention to Eren’s sister (I assume that one of them is adopted because they look absolutely nothing alike) as she began, “I’m Mikasa, and as Eren said, I’m his sister. I’m torn between becoming a music major or an artist,” She shrugged her shoulders. I looked at the two of them and with amusement realized how much polar opposites they were. 

It was the freckled girl’s turn to go, and she seemed exasperated, like she couldn’t believe she was actually conforming with the rest of us and getting to know one another.

“I’m Ymir. I’m a lesbian and will probably fit under most lesbian stereotypes. If you’ve got a problem with that, I’ll be happy to educate you on why you’re wrong,” she smirked, looking at everyone’s eyes, as if she was hoping anyone would say something offensive so she could prove her point.

The common air throughout the hallway though could most easily be interpreted as impressed instead of disgusted or shocked. I for one was appreciative of her honesty, and tried to imagine the courage it took to say that to a bunch of strangers who could very well be close-minded. Although as I looked at her, she looked like she could hold her own pretty well.

Ymir seemed satisfied with the acceptance throughout the hall and turned her attention to Sasha.

“Oh, me?” She pointed at herself. I noticed she was still wearing the same tank top from yesterday, but instead of sweats, had shorts on that rested low on her hips.

“I’m Sasha Braus! Umm…” She tapped her finger to her lips in thought of what to say before the figurative light bulb lit up and she proceeded to exclaim, “I could drink every last one of you under the table!”

A few voices of protest could be heard, and Sasha seemed pleased with herself, but Connie just groaned loudly and facepalmed before telling me, “She’s right. Don’t take her up on that.”

I laughed and nodded, “Thanks for the heads up,” Even though I had no earthly clue about my own alcohol tolerance. I’ve never even tasted the stuff other than some champagne at one of my parent’s New Year’s parties.

As the voices died down, the cute blonde spoke up, “I’m Krista Lenz, and I work at the soup kitchen on weekends. If any of you ever want to help out, just let me know!” She smiled earnestly.

Of course she works at a soup kitchen.

The game was nearing its end as it was the blonde kid’s turn, right across from Connie and I. He looked kind and calculating, like he was taking this whole interaction and saving it in a file for later use.

“My name is Armin Arlert. I grew up with Eren and Mikasa over there. Also, I’m a certified tutor, so if any of you need help with your classes, come to me before spending money on a tutor. I might be able to help you out,” He finished with a smile. It was my turn to take information and store it for a later date. I’m probably going to take Armin up on that offer; I don’t want to lose my scholarship.

Unfortunately for me, it seemed everyone else was doing the same.

Armin looked up to his roommate and gave him an encouraging smile. The guy in turn rolled his eyes and stood up a little straighter and started, “Jean Kirschtein. It’s not _Jeen_ or _John._ I’m an art major. Although I’m pretty much only getting my degree for sound of mind. I’m training to be a tattoo artist,” he shrugged and leaned up against the door again, bending one knee and putting his heel behind him.

With his arm crossed, I can see the very edge of a tattoo poking out from his shirt, but I can’t make out what it is. Huh. I cock my head and look at him curiously, but look away when his eyes meet mine.

“Well I guess it’s my turn,” Connie interrupts me from my minor embarrassment, and thankfully Jean’s eyes tear away from me and refocus on my roommate. “I’m Connie Springer. And I can kick any and all your asses at Halo. I’ll put money on it.”

Again, like with Sasha, a few people pipe up –mainly Eren and Jean- and Connie grins, crossing his arms, “I’ll gladly take any of you on, at any time.”

“All right, all right, we got one more. Your turn Freckles,” Reiner says over the now bickering Eren, Jean and Connie, and everyone turns their attention on me, most of whom look like they want me to hurry up so they can go back to their rooms.

I start to feel my face heat up, but I force a smile on it and rub my right arm with my left.

“I’m Marco Bodt,” I start, hoping my voice sounds more confident out loud than it does in my head. “I’m uh. Oh wow, I really should have thought about something to say before it got to me, huh?” I say nervously, trying to wrack my brain for _something_ interesting to say that didn’t involve my cat at home, or my love for _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ or anything else that could fuel possible teasing.

The looks I receive though are kind and amused, not glares that threaten my very existence. It makes me feel a little bit better, and so I simply say, “I guess I’m just excited for this year.”

It seems that everyone else deems this an acceptable response and all eyes go from staring at me, to looking back at Reiner. All eyes, except one pair of amber that I can’t force myself to meet.

“Awesome! Well, now that we know each other, I’ll let you go back to your rooms. But for anyone that doesn’t have anything planned later, let’s go to the coffee shop at the bottom of the hill on the south side of campus. I think it’s called Sweet Sina’s. If you’re down, Bert, Annie and I will be there around noon. See you all then!” He called and he and Bert headed back into their room.

Taking that as our cue, we all awkwardly went back inside of our rooms. I smiled at a few of them and held the door open for Connie, ready to go back inside and maybe get an hour or so of more sleep, before I turned around to see Jean, leaned up against his open doorway, staring at me with such intensity I felt it in my gut.

I smiled at him before shutting the door behind me, and told my quickly beating heart to get a hold of itself.


	2. This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco makes friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so thank you all so much for the kind kind comments! You don't understand how much they all mean to me!  
> I'm very very sorry that this took so long for me to update. Life is getting pretty lifey. Stress and all that jazz.  
> But we're here! Chapter 2!

I’m usually very good at decision-making. This was not the case today. I should have taken those few extra hours to sleep before going to Sweet Sina’s. I really should have. Instead, I decided to give into Connie’s earlier suggestion that he could kick my ass at Halo. I got my ass handed to me on a silver platter, just in case you were wondering.

At 11:30, Connie and I decided to walk to Sweet Sina’s. We were pretty sure that we could make it in ten minutes, but we didn’t know the campus layout very well, so we decided to give ourselves some extra time. Before we left, we picked up Sasha and her roommate, Krista.

We were all much more appropriately dressed for seeing each other, and it’s kind of hard to feel awkward around Sasha and Connie.

We walked to the elevator to see if it had been fixed yet –nope- and then headed down the stairs to the lobby.

“Hey guys!” Petra waved at us kindly. We each said our hellos and began the trek to find the coffee shop.

“Do you think anyone else will be there? You know, besides us, Reiner and Bertholdt?” Krista asked sweetly, with a blush.

Sasha immediately started waggling her eyebrows at her which made her blush harder. I felt like there was something I was missing, but I didn’t push it.

“I’m not sure. That Annie girl looked like she was close with them, so it’s a possibility that she might come,” I answer her, giving her a reassuring smile since her blush had not eased up.

“Dude, that girl looks terrifying. I could have heard screaming coming from her room and would not have told anyone,” Connie expresses to us. After incredulous stares from both Krista and I, he explained, “If I ever snitched on her, I’m pretty sure I’d be the next person in there screaming. She doesn’t need to tell me twice about not ratting her out.” He then proceeded to visibly shiver and Sasha laughed and clapped him on the back.

“Whatever. You’re such a wuss when it comes to girls.”

“Am not!”

“Remember Mina? You tried to ask her out, and then ran before she could answer because you were afraid she would pummel you!”

I tried my hardest to hold in my laugh, I really did. I swear.

Connie just huffed and turned his nose to the air.

We continued to the south side of campus, where Reiner had mentioned, and kept up friendly conversation. Krista and I were quiet most of the time, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was mostly just because Sasha and Connie had a constant back-and-forth way of talking.

As we kept walking, I noticed a familiar head of two-toned hair up ahead of us. He was leaning on a tree at the top of the hill that the majority of campus was on, right before it dropped down. He looked halfway annoyed and other half anxious, if that was even possible. I squint my eyes to see what’s in between his fingers, and when he pulls it to his lips, I realize that he’s smoking. Again, I see a tiny sliver of black on his bicep, poking out from underneath his shirt. I’m so caught up in staring at Jean, that I don’t realize that Sasha is asking me something.

“Aren’t I right, Marco?” she pleads with me.

“Mhmm,” I respond, giving her a quick glance and a smile before looking back towards Jean. His head is now tilted down and his brows are furrowed. I can’t help but wonder what’s got him looking like he’s in such deep thought.

We keep walking toward the top of the hill, and when we’re twenty feet away, he notices us and nods in our direction. Once we get closer, he says, “Hey guys, you headed to Sina’s?”

“Yeah man! I didn’t know who all would come!” Connie says. Jean just laughs a little and puts his cigarette out on the bottom of his high-top converse.

“I think Armin, Eren and Mikasa are going. Armin met up with them earlier,” Jean explains.

We then continue walking, and even though we’re all being friendly, I find myself nervous. Because of Jean. He’s intimidating. Not because he has a tattoo and punk-ish hair. But because he has such a captivating gaze, and when he looks at you, it’s so intense.

Have you ever wanted to be someone’s friend so badly, you have no idea why, but you have this pull to them that makes the idea of _not_ being friends with them unfeasible? But the thought of actually holding intelligent conversation with them scares the bajeezuz out of you? Yeah. That’s how I feel about Jean.

I look at how he holds his head; chin up. And how he walks with his hands in his pockets, and how his clothes just scream, ‘ _I didn’t_ try _to look this good, it just kind of happened.’_

It’s very intimidating.

That’s why when he strides up next to me and says, “You’re Marco, right?” I just kinda stare at him.

“Uh, yeah,” I say. Crap. The look he’s giving me now, makes me realize I sounded incredibly rude. “I mean, yeah! Yeah, that’s me,” I offer, a bit friendlier.

He raises a thin eyebrow and nods.

Good job, Marco.

“What’s the tattoo of?” I blurt out before really thinking. I mentally kick myself for being so awkward and so forward and so socially inept at this moment.

“Which one?” He answers, smirking.

“Um, I guess the one on your arm.”

He lifts up his shirt sleeve and reveals a long band of black markings. It’s a dragon, I realize. It’s one of those old traditional dragons that appears to be curled around his shoulder, and down his arms, whiskers and all. I instinctively want to reach out and touch it, but I stop myself (good job, Marco).

“Wow. That’s really cool. Any meaning behind it?” I ask out of genuine curiosity.

“Nah. Not really. It was my first tattoo, so I just kind of. Got it.” He looks a bit indifferent, but the more I look at it, the more I’m impressed by it (although, getting a traditional Chinese dragon tattoo sort of leans on the side of pretentious, but I digress).

“It’s really cool. What are your other ones?” I ask, hoping I’m not pushing the social boundaries. I mean, he did ask which one, right? I’m not being too pushy, am I?

“Just one more,” he says and shows me his right wrist. I recognize the symbol of a fleur de lis. It’s about three inches long, and it’s simple but none the less beautiful.

“It’s French, right?”

“Yupp. My mom’s side is French. Hence my name.” He’s looking right at me, as if searching for something. I don’t know what that is, so I get flustered and have to tear my eyes away from his.

Luckily though, we reach Sweet Sina’s and Sasha is loudly anticipating food.

We walk inside, and the first word that comes to mind is cozy. The second is hipster. The interior, everything from the walls, to the floors, to ornaments all over the shop, look second-hand. There are an equal number of tables and fluffy couches, bunched into corners, and even bookshelves overflowing with books of all kind. We walk up to the counter, and we’re all looking at the menu trying to decide what to order, when we hear a familiar booming voice coming from a corner with couches.

“Hey guys! Glad you all made it!” Reiner lifts his coffee cup into the air as if toasting our arrival.

I chuckle and respond with a, “Thanks for inviting us!”

He, Bertholdt, Annie and Ymir are all sitting around, already with their drinks, chatting conversationally.

Sasha, of course, is the first to order. She orders three croissants, two donuts, a kolache, and a chocolate Frappuccino.

“You planning on sharing any of that?” Jean laughs. I look at him. He makes himself a part of his surroundings, I’ve started to notice. Where I would be nervous that I’d sound rude, Jean just says what’s on his mind, easing his way into conversations.

I really admire that.

“Fuck that!” Sasha laughs right back. Connie just rolls his eyes, and proceeds to order two chocolate donuts and an iced mocha.

While Krista is ordering her pumpkin spice latte, I’m trying to decide between a white chocolate mocha and a caramel macchiato. I turn to Jean in an effort to be more brave and ask him what he thinks I should get.

He cocks his hip and thinks for a second, tapping his finger to his upper lip, then offers, “Caramel macchiato. Definitely.”

I smile and do just that.

* * *

 

After we all order and sit down, and Eren, Mikasa and Armin show up, we’re sitting comfortably in the corner of the shop.

“Sasha, I don’t understand how you can demolish all of that fucking food and stay so fucking thin,” Ymir gripes.

“I don’t know Ymir!” Sasha almost sings, a huge smile on her face. “I’m an enigma.”

“You’ve got that right,” I hear Connie mutter under his breath. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Sasha, however and she pulls him into a tight headlock, giving him a noogie.

We all laugh. I sit back in the couch and sip on my macchiato. It’s delicious. Jean is to my right, and Ymir is to my left. Both drinking their coffee black.

I let myself think how lucky I am. Classes haven’t even started and I’m already making friends with everyone on my floor. I’m flabbergasted. I mean, sure, I get along with people easily. But this feels different.

“Okay, so I promised Ymir that we’d play an actual get to know you game,” Reiner cuts in loudly. As expected, Ymir pinches the bridge of her nose, but I can see the smile that she’s fighting. Interesting.

“What kind of game?” Armin asks.

“You’ve heard of Never Have I Ever?” Reiner grins.

A few of us groan. But no one objects. I know immediately that it’ll be a boring game for me. I’ve played a few times. I’m always one of the last ones in the game, if I’m not the last.

“Okay, so Bertl, why don’t you explain it?” Reiner says, giving Bertholdt a clap on the back.

He looks a little nervous about being put in the spotlight, but proceeds nonetheless, “Okay. We all put up ten fingers,” He demonstrates, holding up both of his hands, “And whoever’s turn it is, says something that they’ve never done. If you have done that thing, you put a finger down,” he again demonstrates, by putting one finger down.

We all put down our drinks to begin the game.

“Who starts?” Jean asks.

“Well, how about we see who has the next birthday?” Krista asks.

“Mine is in November. Anyone have any before then?” Armin asks. When no one says anything, he sits up a bit straighter and says, “Okay, I’ll start.”

And from there, we all learned things about each other, just as Reiner had promised. I learned that Mikasa has broken three bones (apparently all defending either Eren or Armin), Bertholdt has three dogs at home (Annie has five and three cats), Krista has been a vegetarian practically her whole life (Ymir has been for four years), Jean isn’t the only one with tattoos or piercings (I wonder what kind Eren has) Connie and Sasha (unsurprisingly) both smoke pot, and Reiner has apparently done a _lot_ of things.

When it’s down to Krista, Armin and I, people start getting bored of our “innocent” questions.

“I don’t know what else to say!” I laugh, when Jean groans into the couch pillow when my last declaration was, “Never have I ever seen The Titanic all the way through.” Even though Armin and Krista both put a finger down for that one.

“All right, all right, okay Armin, I have a good one for you to ask,” Eren says excitedly once it’s Armin’s turn again. He leans over and whispers in his ear, and Armin turns bright red, all the way up to his hairline.

“Um… Never have I ever… Uh. Had a wet dream.”

I blanch. There have been sexual statements all throughout the game, and no one was particularly phased by it. But this was the first one that applied to me. I consider lying to everyone and keeping my finger up, until Krista unabashedly puts one down, leaving her out of the game. I finally sigh, and put one down too, leaving two fingers up.

A few cat calls and ‘ _oooooh_ ’s are thrown out, so I just bury my head in my free hand. Jean and Ymir both laugh on either side of me, and Ymir helpfully says, “Happens to the best of us, my freckled friend.”

I decide right then that I really like Ymir. I am now a ‘freckled friend.’ Although it does take a while for me to deter the conversation from that particular dream.

I finally end up losing when Armin pulls, “Never have I ever worn makeup” and I then have to explain that I’ve been in plays before.

“Sweet! Are you majoring in theatre?” Reiner asks me, once the game is officially over.

“Um, I don’t know. I like theatre. But if I do go into it, I’d want to be a playwright, not an actor.”

Jean gives me a look, that I sincerely hope is along the lines of impressed, and then asks, “So you write?”

I rub my arm awkwardly and nod.

“Like, plays or books, or what?”

“Plays. I’m interested in screen-writing though,” I answer, trying to gague his reaction.

He then smiles a smile that makes my skin heat up. I don’t know why.

“That’s awesome, man! You should let me read them sometime!” He says with genuine enthusiasm.

I look away from that piercing gaze and mumble, “S-sure.”

We stay at Sina’s for a little longer and all decide to head back up to the dorm. We all start walking back together, and I’m extremely grateful for Reiner, because as this group of twelve freshman climb up the hill, we have a new sense of comradery. It makes my heart swell. I keep pace next to Ymir, who is talking animatedly to Krista about something or other. I’m kind of tuning out of conversation, instead just taking in the moment.

When we return, we check the elevator again –still broken- and head up the stairs. But instead of going into our rooms, for some reason, we all just sit in the hallways, forming little clumps.

Currently I’m in a clump with Ymir, Sasha and Connie, while Mikasa, Eren, Armin and Jean are in another, and Reiner, Annie, Bertholdt and Krista are in another.

My clump is talking about our classes, and I’m extremely pleased to find that I have a class with all three of them. We each have Algebra together, Ymir and I have history, Sasha and I have ethics, Connie, Sasha and I have into to psych and then when I tell them my English time, Sasha tells me that I have that with Krista. Since the school is pretty small, we probably have classes with others on the floor as well.

“This is so cool. I’m already making new friends!” Sasha says excitedly, munching on a granola bar that was in her purse.

“I was thinking the same thing,” I laugh. I don’t feel so venerable here. Not with these people.

I look back at my past relationships. I had a few good friends, like Thomas and Samuel. But even though I had known them for much longer, I already feel like the friends I’m making here are special. It's a feeling I don't really know how to explain, but an idea that makes my heart flutter.

“I’m just glad I’m gonna know some people in my classes,” Connie tells us. Ymir nods her head.

“Yeah. I didn’t make many friends back at my old school. My parents moved around a lot,” Ymir says. She looks indifferent but my heart goes out to her.

“Well, even if your parents move, you won't have to move around. You'll still be here,” I say encouragingly.

She’s fighting back a smile again. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“Awww, Marco! You’re so sweet!” Sasha almost shouts and flings her head into my lap. I giggle and ruffle her hair.

Friends. This is nice. Even if I am already really tired and wish I would have taken those few hours of extra sleep, I wouldn’t trade this blossoming feeling for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a bit short, and I apologize. I just really felt bad for not updating for a while, so I wanted to give you at least something. The next few weeks will be hella hectic. I'm moving soon, and still getting some life stuff under control.  
> Please let me know what you think, what you like, what you don't, what's working, what's not, and concrit would be much appreciated. I really work on feedback.  
> Anyways, you guys are great.


	3. Campus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marco goes to class, Reiner starts up a slip-n-slide, and pizza is had by a grump who maybe is not such a grump.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm so incredibly sorry about my lack of consistency when posting! It's been a whole month since last chapter! You can thank the always incredible Nippaaah~ for encouraging me to keep going. She's the best. For real.  
> Oh, and a warning! This chapter does have spoilers for the first episode of The Walking Dead. So, beware of that.

When school finally starts, it’s hectic and I’m nervous.

It’s hectic because all of the other freshman are trying to navigate our mildly confusing and not-so-midly hilly campus. With each bend and turn, all of us thinking we’re going the right way, somehow we end on the opposite side of school. It’s helpful though that a lot of us have the same classes together. That way, we don’t look so pathetic when we have to do the awkward turn-around in the middle of the path we’re walking in. At least we’re pathetic together.

I’m nervous because it’s college, it’s different, and it’s going to be harder. I’ve always been good at school; my lack of a substantial social life lead to more studying than most of my other classmates, and classes such as English just came naturally to me. Math, however, was a different story.

My first class today is Algebra, and Connie and Sasha left early to go get breakfast while I was in the shower. I didn’t mind too much, mostly because I heard Sasha wailing about food even while the water was pounding on my head. I wouldn’t want to bear witness to a terribly hungry Sasha.

Even so, I was sitting in my dorm, at 8:47, trying to decide if I should leave a whole forty-three minutes early to get to my 9:30 class. It was while I was contemplating over a spoonful of yogurt when I heard a hard rap on my door. I put the spoon in my mouth and saunter over and when I open the door, I’m met with a person with hair tied in a tight ponytail at the base of her neck and freckles splattering across her face.

I attempt to talk around the spoon in my mouth before I have the grace to take it out.

“Hey Ymir, what’s up?” I ask and open the door a bit wider, as an invitation.

She just leans up against the door, however and without looking directly at me, answers, “We got algebra in about an hour, yeah? Um. We should walk together.”

I try to hold back a smile. Ymir, who seems so intimidating, looks almost… _nervous_ to ask me to walk to class with her.

“Yeah, definitely!” I reply, maybe a _tad_ bit too enthusiastically with the way her eyebrow arches up and how she narrows her eyes. I just turn around to put on my favorite red vans and grab my backpack before I throw away my yogurt and plastic spoon and meet Ymir at the door.

“Ready?” I ask, toning it down a touch this time, but still with a smile I hope is friendly.

“No. I fucking hate math. Let’s go.”

* * *

 

Walking with Ymir is strangely a really enjoyable experience. She’s kind of cold and really brash and often times very crude, but she’s intelligent and sharp and while she may say what’s on her mind, she’s never exactly _rude._

Okay, maybe I’m stretching the truth a little.

“I heard her across the hall from me this morning. I’m telling you, _dying whale_ is the only way to describe those noises. I don’t know how she doesn’t put on any fucking weight,” she gripes.

I laugh, because really it is astonishing that Sasha has remained so thin, but I reply with, “I don’t know, maybe she’s like a hummingbird and her metabolism is so fast that she needs to consume like, ten times as many calories as the rest of us.”

“Even though that was the lamest shit I’ve ever heard, that’s the only plausible explanation. Way to go, Freckles.”

We talk like this while trying to figure out where exactly the math building is, her cursing loudly at anyone who isn’t watching where they’re going, and me silently apologizing to them. I like to think we made a productive duo, seeing as she pretty much makes a path open up for us with her hard stare, and me acting sort of as the cleanup crew, putting on my best apologetic smile for anyone who happens to be victim to Ymir.

I’m finding that I’m really enjoying myself.

When we finally get to the building, after many wrong turns, my legs hurt from walking up and down the hills, and because the summers in Trost are unrelenting, and haven’t yet come to a close, I’m sporting a pretty heavy sweat. Gross.

We find Connie and Sasha in the middle of the classroom sitting next to Jean. I didn’t realize he had this class too. I guess everyone wanted to get math out of the way early, like I did.

Jean has his chin propped up in one hand as he looks of into the distance, sandwiched in between Sasha and Connie. They’re going on and on about something or other, and Jean doesn’t look like he’s absorbing any of it.

But apparently I’ve been staring for a tad bit too long, because Ymir elbows me in the side and I give out a pained yelp before she starts walking to the closest available seats to them, in the row right in front of the trio.

I follow close behind and sit down next to her, in front of Sasha.

“Marcooooo!” She yells excitedly, and we all get rude looks from the rest of the class. It scares Jean so badly, his head slips from his hand, and he nearly knocks over the coffee that’s sitting in front of him.

“Shit! _Fuck,_ Sasha, was that _necessary?_ ” He exclaims.

I feel my face go hot before politely waving at Sasha (and am I supposed to wave at Jean and Connie?), and bless Connie for being a huge doofus and not being able to take any situation seriously, because he quickly diffuses the tension.

“Hey Mr. Grumpy Gills! Chill,” he offers, doing his best to impersonate Ellen Degeneres.

Jean quickly goes back to zoning out after that, and I again wonder why he has such a far-out look in his eyes.

“Anyone else think this class is going to fucking blow?” Ymir asks, raking her hand through her hair and messing it up.

I almost want to agree, just on the principle that it’s _math_ but I think about the boy sitting one table back and to the left, and I find myself not really minding.

Well that’s an odd thought.

We chat amicably –with the exception of Jean of course- before class starts, and then our professor, a short, silver-haired woman with glasses walks in to begin.

* * *

 

Since it’s the first day of class, we don’t get assigned any homework, and most of them let out early. Which is a blessing, really. I’m getting more and more frustrated by the school’s confusing layout and hilly terrain by the second. One person is not supposed to sweat this much.

By the time my three classes for the day are over, and I get back to the dorm (I just got out of English, and though I have it with Krista and Bertholdt, they both went to the library to buy some of their books- I said I was just going to order them off of Amazon), I’m _really_ hoping the elevator is working, but a walk through the doors and spotting it, still with yellow caution tape around it, says no such luck.

I hang my head and walk past a tall man who seems to… actually _sniff_ in my direction (holy hell, do I really smell that bad?) before taking the trek up the thousandth set of stairs today. I’m really just looking forward to tearing off my shirt and lying in bed contemplating existence for a while.

But I’m quickly learning that living on the same floor as Reiner Braun will not allow that.

I turn the corner from the flight of stairs and open the steel door to enter my floor when I’m accosted with loud, obnoxious pop music flooding the hallway that seems to be a speaker system that’s plugged into the wall, with someone’s phone connected to it. Reiner is slip-sliding across the hall with his socks, joined by an equally pumped Connie, Sasha and Eren. Armin is sitting in front of Eren’s room with Mikasa, laughing at the scene, and Mikasa buries her smile in her red scarf.

I approach them, insanely tired, but with a smile because they look like they’re genuinely having a blast.

“Marco!” Sasha roars when she sees me, and her and Connie come up to either side of me. Eren seems to be trying to beat his previous record of how far he can actually slide.

“Dude, take off your shoes!” Connie yells enthusiastically.

“What?” I sputter.

Reiner then throws his head back and laughs.

“These hallways were like, just buffed or something. Makes for an awesome pseudo-slip-n-slide.”

I want to question why of all things to do, they decided to go with this, but I figure that it’d be easier to go with the flow.

“Hold on a sec, guys. Lemme put my stuff in my room,” I chuckle and try to walk past the nonsense that is happening around me. I enter my room and drop my stuff on my side, and quickly decide that it’d be more hygienic to change into cleaner socks.

When I come back out, it seems that Eren has roped Armin into joining the crew.

“Okay, so the best way to do it, is to get a running start,” he explains to Armin, who nods furiously, attention on the hallway ahead of him.

It goes on like this for a while, and we eventually start making a game out of it. Bertholdt comes back from the library and sits outside his door to watch Reiner and I acting as designated ‘throwers’ who grab whoever’s turn it is by the hands and launching them across the hallway.

“Dude! Connie! I think that was a new record!” Eren yells, running up to high-five Connie, who looks incredibly proud of himself for his achievement.

I laugh. This is such a great feeling, already being on good terms with my dorm-mates. I look at Mikasa, who smiles briefly at me, before ducking her face into her scarf again. I look at Armin, who actually looks like he’s trying to figure out the velocity he needs to break Connie’s record. I look at Sasha, who is now sprawled out on the floor, laughing manically.

This is good.

Until Reiner and Eren launch me down the hallway, toward to door of the stairwell, and as I’m whizzing past, laughing like a crazy person, I run straight into something.

“FUCK!” I hear as I collide and begin to fall.

Huh. Not a some _thing._

My momentum takes us to the floor and we end up in a heap, but not before I hear Jean’s head crack down on the tile.

“ _OW,_ ” he yells, and oh shit it was Jean, I feel so bad, I don’t know what to do, so I scramble off of him as quickly as I can. I didn’t get hurt in the process seeing as I had a whole body to cushion my fall.

“Oh my god, Jean, are you okay?” I ask, reaching out my hands, but not sure if it’s okay so touch him, so I just sort of flounder them in midair.

He hisses as he tries to sit up and feel the back of his head (thankfully I don’t see any blood), and I can tell he’s biting back more curses. He shoots me a nasty look and tries to stand, but it seems his balance is off from the hit on his head.

“Here, let me help you,” I offer my hand out to him as I stand. Crap, he really looks like he’s in pain.

He reluctantly grabs my hand, and I pull him up and try to steady him, but he brushes me off. The others in the hallway start crowding around us to see the full extent of the situation.

“A-are you okay, Jean?” I try again, resenting how my voice shakes.

“Fine,” is the only reply I get as he tries to shoulder his way through the rest of us.

Everyone parts for him, sending me glances of sympathy. My shameful blush heats my face all the way up to my hairline, and I look to the ground. I hear Jean’s door slam shut.

“I uh. I think I’m gonna turn in for the night,” I say so quietly it’ almost a whisper.

“Hey man, don’t be like that. He’s just perpetually grumpy,” Reiner supplies. But I just offer him a weak smile and head back to my room. The atmosphere in the hallway is significantly duller than before.

* * *

 

Tuesday is considerably worse.

For one, I didn’t get much sleep. I kept tossing and turning, thinking about how I really messed it up with Jean. He’s going to hate me, I just know it. I mean, I know the guy for two days, and almost split his skull open. That’s not an ideal way to start off a friendship.

Besides, who am I kidding? Most of the people I’ve come to know as friends already have their person. The one that they can call their best friend. I don’t have that. I’ve never had that.

Will I ever?

I think back to Jinae, and the friends I had there. Samuel was probably my closest friend, but he was really involved in football and eventually lost time for me. Thomas, my other friend, was part of another circle and even though they were all pleasant to me, I never got invited to parties or outings.

Sometimes that really hurts.

So I just remained that way. Being the guy everyone likes, but not enough to spend a substantial amount of time with. It made me feel hollow. It still makes me feel hollow. So much so that I wrap my arms around my core and just hold on to the emptiness.

It’s always like this when I overthink my interactions with people. Always _what ifs_. What if I had said something different? What if I invited someone over to my house? Would they even accept?

It’s thoughts like these that kept me up throughout the night, making it to where I can’t get comfortable in my sleep, and when I finally do dream, it’s of faceless people turning their backs.

So I wake up late and have to run to my first class. It isn’t until I’m at the door and try to fix my appearance somewhat that I realize my shirt is on backwards.

The rest of my day continues like that. In psych, Connie and Sasha both try to cheer me up, but I think they start to get tired of my noncommittal responses. How I manage to bring down the mood of those two just makes me feel worse.

I stop listening to what my teacher is saying about her syllabus and instead I start doodling in my notebook. I’m a horrible artist. Even my stick figures look disproportioned and that’s saying something. You know. Considering they’re sticks.

I sigh and let my head fall into my arms.

After class, Connie and Sasha head over to the student center, and they politely invite me, but I don’t want to dampen their mood any more than I already have, so I turn them down.

Instead, I go to Sweet Sina’s and bask in the air conditioned building, chugging down a Frappuccino.

So I get surprised when I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket.

It’s from a number I don’t recognize.

**Unknown number:**

**hey so u owe me for almost bustin my head open. pizza 2nite?**

I stare at the message incredulously. I mean, that could only be one person, right? I don’t think I nearly busted anyone else’s head open?

I am about to respond, but I get another one right after.

**Uknown number:**

**nd ur payin**

I almost laugh, but I stop myself before I start getting suspicious. I type out _probably_ a million different messages before I finally end up on:

**To: unknown number**

**Jean?**

Ah yes, Marco. So eloquent.

I chew the inside of my lip for a while before I stop and take another huge gulp of my Frappuccino. I jiggle my leg up and down for a while, passing my phone between each hand, and I’m getting more and more antsy, so when I finally get a reply, I accidentally throw my phone on the table.

I roll my eyes at myself and pick up my phone, unlocking it and reading my new message.

**Unknown number:**

**yea its jean. got ur number frm connie hope u dont mind**

It took me a second to remember, that I did indeed give Connie my number the other night. Then it crossed my mind that Jean actually asked for my number from someone else.

That he actually wanted to talk to me.

Still, I was feeling pretty nervous. What if he was still really mad at me? I’m horrible with confrontation, so I’d probably just collapse into myself like a dying star. Over pizza.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down. I most likely was not going to die over pizza. I finally added Jean into my contacts, typed out a message and pressed the green send button before I could back out of it.

**To: Jean**

**Yeah sure! When and where?**

I slid down farther into my seat and really hoped I didn’t sound too desperate over text. I slurp the delicious goodness from the bottom of my Frap, and throw it in the trash can before walking out and back to the dorms.

The walk up the hill is seriously killing my glutes, but I am momentarily distracted by a new text.

**From: Jean**

**we culd eat here. armin is stayin with eren n mikasa 2nite. come over round 6.**

I find it a bit odd that Armin is staying at Eren and Mikasa’s, but instead of dwelling on it, I pocket my phone and continue the torture that is this hill.

I reach the dorm and when I see the yellow caution tape still around the elevator I look over, and when I see that Petra’s on duty, I deadpan, “Are you guys ever going to get that fixed?”

She just shrugs and smiles.

I have decided that I hate stairs.

Once I get to my room, Connie is still out, so I decide it’ll do me some good to take a shower and scrub off all of this stupid sweat (and realize when I peel my shirt off that I never changed it from being inside out. Fantastic). As the water pounds down on my back, I try to think of how my night with Jean is going to go. Honestly, I’m pretty nervous. He seemed really pissed yesterday. Why does he want pizza with me all of a sudden?

I sigh and turn off the hot water and the cool air outside the stall sobers up my self-deprecating thoughts for a bit.

Jean, for whatever reason, invited me over to pizza. Granted, I’d be paying, but that’s okay. I mean, I feel horrible about what I did to his head.

I walk to my side of the room with my towel around my waist and work on getting dressed (and made sure my shirt was right-side out this time).

I look up at my empty cork board and then get an idea.

“Hope I still have it,” I mutter to myself as I dig through my wallet.

Eureka! I find the receipt from when we all went to Sina’s for the first time. I hold it with a tenderness and stick in on my corkboard in the very middle. It’s not much, but it signifies a lot. The empty space around it full of possibilities. I smile to myself before I lie down for a quick nap.

* * *

 

My alarm wakes me up at 5:45. I sit up and groggily rub my eyes and stretch, the bones in my back and neck giving way to a satisfying crack. I slump over and stare at the threads on my comforter.

My eyes start falling closed when I remember where I’m going in a few minutes. I shake the general sleepiness out of my system and head to the bathroom to brush my teeth from nap-breath.

“Hey man, you’re up,” I hear coming from the other side of the room. I walk out with the toothbrush still in between my lips and give Connie a shy wave.

He gets up from his cross-legged position on the floor and walks over to me. I feel a tad bit self-conscious as stares me down. I end up backing away to the sink and spitting out the tooth paste and washing my mouth out before depositing my toothbrush and looking back at him.

“You feeling better?” is all he asks.

“Y-yeah, I am. Sorry about earlier.”

“Nah, it’s no problem. Just making sure.”

It’s a bit awkward before I remember something.

“Oh, did you give Jean my number earlier?” I ask, trying not to sound too curious.

“Yeah. Hope you don’t mind. He was being a dick earlier, so I talked to him. Then he asked for your number,” he shrugs and walks back to his side of the room.

“O-oh. Okay. Well, I’m going over to his room right now to have pizza.” I try not to sound self-incriminating, but Connie doesn’t seem to care anyway. He just smiles and says, “Have fun.”

I grab my shoes and my phone and head out to Jean’s room. I’m standing in front of his door with a nervous feeling in my gut, so when I finally knock on the door, I feel like my heart is palpitating.

When he opens the door, he’s in a gray tank top and black sweats. I can see his dragon tattoo more clearly now, and I think I spot piercings on his collar bones?

I realize that I’m staring when he smirks at me and leans against the doorframe.

“Hey there, Freckles. You ordered the pizza yet?” He waggles his eyebrows at me, and for some reason, I flush.

“Uh, no, I didn’t know what you would like,” I nervously stammer. I’m starting to shift on the balls of my feet, and I don’t know why I’m so nervous. He doesn’t seem upset at all.

“All right then, come in.”

He stands aside and I’m let in to his dorm. It’s the same layout as mine, but looks totally different. On the side closest to the door are books and calendars and planners everywhere. I’m guessing that’s Armin’s side.

He continues to walk over to the far side of the room, and I’m met with band posters and clothes strewn about.

One poster sticks out to me in particular.

“You like Iron and Wine?” I ask a little surprised.

“Hell yeah I do. Sam Beam is the shit,” he says nodding up to the poster from the soundtrack _Song of the Shepherd’s Dog._

“That’s one of my favorite albums,” I grin at him.

“Huh. Wouldn’t peg you for the type. Good to know though,” his smirk is lopsided but it just fits him.

I roll my eyes but I venture farther into his room. I don’t recognize all of the posters, but I do know most of them. Jean just flops onto his bed and gestures to his TV.

“We could watch something after you order pizza?”

“Um. Yeah, sure. What kind do you like?”

He smiles almost devilishly at me and says, “Meat lovers.”

So I order one large meat lovers pizza from the place on campus, and I’m glad to know that they deliver. I sit awkwardly at the chair at Jean’s desk and kind of look around the rest of his room before he finally cards a hand through his hair and sighs.

“Hey man, about yesterday, I’m really sorry I freaked out on you.” He looks incredibly sincere, and I realize it’s the first time I see him look so… open.

“Oh! No, it’s really okay it was seriously my fault, I should’ve been more careful,” I tell him holding up my hands as if it’ll deter any of his other apologies. I definitely wasn’t expecting _him_ to apologize to _me._

“No, really. I was a dick. I was just… Already pissed. Shouldn’t have taken it out on you,” he answers, looking down at his feet, which are now hanging off the bed.

I don’t know what to say, because I don’t want to pry, but he remedies that with changing the subject.

“So, _The Walking Dead_ or _Parks and Rec?_ ” he asks, turning on his TV.

After being appalled that I have seen neither, he decides that I need to be educated in zombies and Rick Grimes. He looks comical with his mock horror at my lack of “quality shows” and teases me about it, but I gently remind him that of the two of us, I’m currently the one being less of a dork.

“Psh. Whatever. You just don’t understand what you’re missing, man.”

He pats the bed next to him and pushes himself so he’s sitting with his back flush against the wall. He looks comfortable enough with me sitting next to him, _on his bed,_ so I’m trying to figure out why I’m getting so nervous about it. I toe off my shoes and tenderly sit next to him nonetheless.

As he scrolls through Netflix that’s already programmed to his large, HDTV, I take a moment to study his face. He’s wearing a scowl, but somehow it doesn’t look threatening. Is… cute an acceptable word for it?

Probably not.

I let my eyes rake over the rest of his features, which are all severe and angular. His cheek bones are so sharp that they compete with James Marsters from _Buffy_. Which I originally thought was impossible. His forehead slopes into the ridge of his nose, which is scrunched up a bit from his search of the zombie show. His eyebrows are creased, and I just can’t help but describe him as unthreatening. Which makes me smile, because the thought of pissing him off kept me up almost all night.

“Found it!” He fist pumps the air and draws his legs in under him, “Dude, I hope you’re ready for this. The pilot is killer.”

I wasn’t ready for it. Scary shows and movies aren’t exactly my cup of tea. I enjoy quirky, feel-good films. And possibly Disney movies. Okay, not possibly. My cat’s name is Bagheera. I have a problem.

The first episode starts out with a cop car driving down an empty road, and when it stops and, who I’m guessing, is the protagonist, walks out, I’m already feeling eerie. For a good two minutes he’s just walking through a field and to a gas station, and when he comes across dead bodies in cars, I whine pitifully.

“Dude, nothing’s even happened yet,” Jean nudges me smugly, and oh man. There’s an evil glint in his eyes. I can see it.

“Obviously _something’s_ happened. Those people are _dead,_ Jean. They didn’t even get a _chance_ ,” I know I sound dramatic, but it can’t be helped. Those poor, dead people.

He just laughs, the sound shaking through his whole body, and when the protagonist sees the “no gas” sign and starts to turn around, he hears shuffling. And right when the camera panels to a little girl, _which there is obviously something wrong with,_ there is a loud knock on the door.

“Pizza!” the delivery man on the other side of the door yells.

I’m a bit embarrassed to say that I jump up a mile in the air and _squeak_. Oh my god. Jean actually looks offended by the noise that just came out of my mouth. I hang my head in my hands and groan, while he starts erupting into laughter and pauses the show. And at this point, the little girl has turned around.

Oh my god.

“Come on, Freckles, you pay, I’ll tip,” he attempts to say in between his mirth.

I stand up and fish my wallet out of my pocket, and go to the door. When I open it, I’m hit with the smell of a glorious, large pizza with enough greasy meat to put me in cardiac arrest. And when I look at the delivery guy, I’m hit with a distinct feeling of deva vu (along with a tad feeling of disdain because he scared the bajeezus out of me).

Weird. He looks a lot like me, if I were to wear glasses. I look at his nametag and it says, “BILLY”.

I hand Billy a 10 and 5 dollar bills, and when he gives me my change and my receipt, Jean leans over my shoulder so his chest is flush against my back, and hands the guy a 5. My breath shouldn’t catch the way it does.

When Billy the pizza guy leaves, Jean and I sit on the floor in front of his bed so he doesn’t get any bugs on his sheets from meaty crumbs.

Before we open the box, Jean tilts his head and says, “The pizza guy looked like you.”

“Yeah, weird, huh?” I chew the inside of my lip.

“Yeah, but he didn’t have freckles. Fuck him,” he states with such finality that I crack up laughing, in spite of poor Billy the pizza guy.

When we finally dig in, the noise that comes from Jean’s mouth is borderline pornographic when he shoves his face full of pizza.

“Oh my god,” he moans, food still in his mouth, “this is fucking fantastic.”

I hum along in agreement, my mouth too occupied by meat.

Wait, no.

After making sure I was ready, Jean starts the episode up again, and I’m subjected to watching a poor, zombified girl getting shot in the head.

As the rest of the episode goes on, I get more into it, even when Rick comes across double doors that I originally read as, “DON’T DEAD OPEN INSIDE,” to which Jean just laughs and mumbles something along the lines of, “yeah, they kinda fucked up there.”

I have to put down my pizza when I see a zombie who’s ripped in half and crawling her way across the park. It doesn’t faze Jean though, who just keeps munching away.

My first impression of Lori is not a good one. You better get your shit together, Lori.

We polish off the rest of the pizza fairly quickly, and when the scene comes where Rick is going into the city on horseback, I perk up.

“Oh wow, I love horses,” I say enthusiastically. I can just imagine Rick riding in like a knight in shining armor to maybe save his wife and son, or thunder across Georgia and find a camp of other people. Jean just makes a pained grunt.

I soon find out why. That poor horse. After Rick gets bucked off, the horde of walkers brutally kills the poor animal.

“Oh my god,” is all I can whisper.

“Sorry man. I know it’s rough,” he pats my shoulder.

So when the episode ends and Rick is in the tank, I’m literally leaning forward, hands on my knees and when a voice comes through the walkie talkie, and the episode ends, I look at Jean with wide eyes.

“Well? What happens next?” I say, gesturing to the TV that is now rolling credits.

Jean just smirks, “I guess you’ll have to find out. Wanna watch the next episode?”

I’m about to tell him, yes, I’d love to, when I’m interrupted by a phone ringing. I check my pocket; it’s not mine.

The glimmer leaves Jean’s eyes as he pulls his phone out and looks at me with a pained expression.

“Uh. It’s my girlfriend. I gotta take this,” he bites his lower lip and a scowl returns to his face.

“O-oh, no problem. I’ll uh, just go back to my dorm?” I ask nervously and start to stand.

The only answer I get is a nod, before Jean answers his phone with a sigh. I put on my shoes and move to take the pizza box, but Jean motions for me to just leave it while saying, “No, I was just hanging out with a guy across the hall,” through the receiver.

I stand awkwardly for a moment, before deciding I should probably just give him his privacy. I give a small wave before walking out, turning my head to see Jean pinching the skin between his eyes.

It’s about 7:30 by the time I walk across the hall to my room, and I guess Connie is with Sasha, because he’s not in the room when I get inside.

I sit on my bed and look down at my phone. Why did Jean look so disappointed by talking to his girlfriend? I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend until today. For some reason, I felt guilty. I couldn’t justify that feeling in any way, so I tried to bury it, but faint traces of it still persisted.

I unlock my phone and begin a text to Jean.

**To: Jean**

**Hey, I had a lot of fun! We should watch the next episode sometime soon.**

I sigh and begin to undress for the night. When I’m pushing my jeans down, I feel the pizza receipt and take it out to hang on my corkboard. I really need to start collecting things other than receipts.

About an hour later, I’m right on the cusp of sleep, feeling a mix between really great because my cruddy day turned out okay, and kind of bitter because Jean’s girlfriend cut it short. Also because he didn’t seem happy about it either.

When I finally reach sleep, I’m too out to hear my phone getting an incoming message.

**From: Jean**

**yea. i had fun. sry i had to bail. lets watch it soon. night.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so things are moving forward. Finally. An actual plot is forming??//??  
> Since school started, that means I'm going to be procrastinating actual school work, so I'll actually probably post more often. Also, the campus layout is definitely me venting about how much my gorgeous and beautiful campus sucks because of how confusing and hilly it is.  
> Anyway, thank you for reading! Concrit is much appreciated and welcomed!  
> You can follow me on tumblr if you so choose:  
> whatsinamasterball.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> Oh no. Reiner has more games planned for next chapter.  
> And yes, the chapter titles are all song titles from my motivational playlist.  
> Anyway, I hope you liked it, and I'll try to update as much as possible. Please leave a comment to let me know what you thought of it!


End file.
